


after hours

by SoftButch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash, Lust, Moicy, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Smut, Teasing, this is rly shameless and self indulgent.......bye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftButch/pseuds/SoftButch
Summary: After work has kept them apart for a few days, Moira helps Angela unwind in the best way she knows how.





	after hours

One of the only unappealing things about being Overwatch's head medic was the obnoxious amounts of medical paperwork that came with the title.

Angela sat alone in her quiet office, scrawling her signature onto the bottoms of a never ending supply of sterile documents. Confirming the results of this and that test, catching up on correspondences with other people in her field... this routine had to be dealt with on occasion, and Angela never grew to like it more.

The doctor's inattentive stare trailed off of the papers on her desk, and settled on the clock hanging on the wall, the second hand ticking away despite its age. It was a vintage analogue clock from much earlier in the 21st century, and she chose to admire the handiwork of days gone by instead of acknowledging that the clock read a time far too late for her liking.

A knock at the door halted her wandering mind in its tracks. She rubbed at her heavy eyes and tried to blink the bleariness out of them.

“Come in.”

The door to her office bumped open, and in walked Moira O'Deorain. She held a large mug in each hand, steam rising from the tops of them. She still had her lab coat on, despite normal work hours ending ages ago. The garment hung limply off of her shoulders, staying on only thanks to a single fastened button in the middle of it.

She didn't bother to shut the door behind her.

Moira set one of the warm mugs down in front of Angela, and she eyed it up suspiciously. Her wary gaze shifted up to Moira, studying her eyes carefully. They glinted with a hint of mischief as an unassuming grin spread across her pointed features.

Angela often reflected on how Moira had convinced her to do all kinds of things she would have never dreamed of before with that infuriatingly hot grin. She tried to not let that train of thought careen its way through her mind when so much work needed to be done.

Shaking her head subtly, Angela cleared her throat and tapped her pen against the piping hot mug of coffee Moira had brought her.

“What's this for?”

Moira took a pointed sip from her own mug.

“Hello to you too, angel.”

Angela wearily ran a hand through her messy hair, drumming her fingers against the papers in front of her. She was busy, and Moira's demanding presence was always too much of a distraction. Though not always an unwelcome one.

Her half-hearted attempts at fooling herself into thinking she was repulsed by Moira were as ineffective as ever.

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” Angela asked with a scowl. Something about Moira's many pet names for her always made Angela's cheeks flush such a humiliating shade of red. She used to try to play it off as if she was embarrassed by the nicknames; as if she didn't think about that smooth as silk voice calling her all sorts of different things against her ear at all hours of the day.

Moira laughed curtly and folded her arms, leaning against Angela's work desk. She ignored the question, as Angela fully expected she would.

“I saw your light was still on, _angel,_ and thought you could do with a bit of a pick me up,” Moira answered flatly. “I haven't seen your pretty face in _days_ , and that just won't do. Just what's been keeping you holed up in this stuffy office?”

Angela wordlessly gestured to the two piles of documents atop her cluttered desk, and Moira's eyes followed the motion. One was so high it was beginning to lean from how top heavy it was, while the other was a meagre fourth of the size, if even that.

“You'll never guess,” Angela said, audibly exhaling from her nose.

“Can't say I envy you, pet.”

“I'm going to finish a few more, and then I'll be off for the evening. Can I do something for you, Moira, or can I ask you to leave?”

Moira held her chin between her thumb and forefinger, observing Angela thoughtfully. The bags forming under Angela's eyes, and her uncharacteristic snappiness didn't go unnoticed by her eagle eyes.

“You seem awfully high strung, angel. Can I do something for you?”

Angela blinked her tired eyes, taken aback slightly by what seemed like Moira's genuine concern. It wasn't like the woman in front of her to present Angela with questions that didn't have an unmistakable undertone of insufferable smugness to them. She suddenly felt guilty for trying to give her the cold shoulder.

“Oh, no, I'm fine... thank you for the coffee, though.”

Without a word, Moira oozed behind Angela's chair, ignoring the deflection of her offer for help. She placed her hands on Angela's tense shoulders, and began to knead at them unprompted.

Much to Angela's surprise, it was a very welcome sensation.

Angela was no stranger to having Moira's hands roaming along her skin, but the touches weren't usually _relaxing_. She lazily let her head roll back against Moira's thin frame, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Your muscles are criminally stiff. Have you taken any breaks today, Angela?”

“I stopped to eat at... oh, about six o'clock, I think it was...” the weary doctor muttered. This was the first time she had actually let herself wind down in days, and the sudden soothing wave of relaxation made Angela feel so much more tired than she thought she was.

“It's nearly one in the morning,” Moira tutted, doubling the efforts of her soothing onslaught. “You're awfully negligent of your own health when you want to be, dear doctor.”

Angela felt her eyebrow twitch, some far-off sense of annoyance trying to make itself known. She let the chastising slide, though; Moira had hit an especially taut bit of her back in _just_ the right way, and Angela didn't want her to stop anytime soon.

“You know I'm incapable of relaxing when there's work to be done...” Angela mumbled breathily, groaning softly at the contact. The drowsiness had given her voice a sultry quality. “That feels good...”

The tone of voice didn't go unnoticed by Moira. Her slim fingers faltered slightly at the sensual sound.

She continued to knead at the tight muscles of Angela's back for a few blissful moments more before taking a hand off of her, using it to brush her silky blonde hair away from her neck. Angela tried to keep her disappointment to herself.

“Why'd you stop?”

Moira didn't reply. It was her turn to exhale.

She had become utterly transfixed by the dip of Angela's neck in front of her; a perfect part of the woman she hadn't gotten to feel against her lips in quite a few days now.

Angela's usual brand of perfume had hit her headily when she was so stood close, and the intoxicating scent of jasmine only served as a reminder of all the nights she'd be mumbling in that low, alluring voice of hers against Angela's ear while she fucked her that bit harder.

Moira bowed her head downward and kissed at Angela's neck with warm lips. More kisses followed the first, each one subtly harder than the last, as Moira teasingly trailed them up and down the delicate skin. Angela's breath hitched in her throat, her head lulling to the side of its own accord to make things easier for Moira.

The atmosphere in the room shifted in a heartbeat, lustful sparks crackling through the air of the once still office. Things never did stay chaste for long between the two of them.

The previously soothing ministrations had become fervent, with wandering hands re-acquainting themselves with Angela's shapely body. Moira kept her lips firmly planted against Angela's neck as she reached around to her front, grabbing and kneading her breasts over the turtleneck sweater. Angela squirmed around in her seat somewhat shamelessly, beads of sweat making themselves known on her brow.

She felt much more susceptible to Moira's touch than normal; was it her tiredness? The redheaded woman's breathing growing shallow in her ear? The fact that she simply hadn't had the time to get off in three days?

So lost was Angela in her own lust hazed mind, that she didn't notice Moira bunching her sweater up above her breasts, until her fingers started to flick at one of Angela's hard nipples in the way that Moira had grown to learn that Angela couldn't get enough of. The simple motion sent a jolt of arousal straight to Angela's core, and she let a small moan slip from her lips.

The sound of her own voice caused Angela to snap back to reality, albeit briefly. She had suddenly remembered where they were. Her _office._

Her heart leaped into her throat, and her eyes darted toward the slightly ajar door. It had been left open by Moira's sudden intrusion. It was rather late, but who knows who would be walking by her office? The last thing she needed was _more_ people talking about all the time she spent with Overwatch's most controversial figure.

Angela hastily tugged her sweater back down her torso, and Moira made a small noise of inquiry.

“Moira... the door's still open.”

Moira pressed her lips against Angela's red ear. The sensation of the feline-like grin spreading across the sensitive flesh sent a shiver of pleasure running up Angela's spine.

“Then we'll just have to be quick about this. Be sure to keep quiet.”

Moira slipped onto her knees and shuffled between the desk and chair before Angela could even register what Moira had meant by that.

The devilish doctor dragged her hands along Angela's legs and up her thighs with deliberate strokes of her palms, working her way up the soft skin until she finally reached what she was after; the hem of Angela's skirt. The garment was unceremoniously hiked up to Angela's waist, that familiar impish smirk creeping its way along Moira's cheeks when Angela's soft groan reached her ears.

Moira wasted no time in trailing hot kisses up her thighs and along her waistline. She tugged at the band of Angela's underwear, silently requesting that they come off. Angela lifted her hips upward, shimmying them down her legs as best she could. Moira brought them down the rest of the way, and tossed them to the side without a second thought.

Angela leaned back in her chair, and hooked a leg around Moira's shoulders with a slow motion, pulling her in as close as she could. A small shiver ran down Moira's spine at the welcome sensation of thick thighs at either side of her head.

She never could get enough of Angela's incredible legs, and Angela, fully aware of this, used it to her advantage often in bed; she knew all the ways to make Moira achingly desperate to fuck her senseless.

Uncharacteristically soft kisses fluttered along Angela's inner thighs, and up and down her crotch. Ever the tease, Moira took extra special care in planting those feather light kisses atop Angela's clit; applying a suction so _frustratingly_ gentle that Angela would have sworn her touch starved mind was imagining it, if not for the soft sound of lips breaking contact with the bundle of nerves over and over again.

The soft sensation made Angela's clit ache so much worse. She let her head fall against the back of her chair, the need pooling in the pit of her stomach growing with every peck of Moira's lips. She tangled her fingers up in Moira's gorgeous, messy red hair with an unmistakable sense of need, silently urging the woman kneeling between her legs to do what she was desperate for her to do.

Moira looked up coyly at Angela from her position on the floor. She didn't have to see her mouth to know that she was smirking that obnoxious smirk that made Angela want to wring her neck and have her fuck her harder all at once.

Angela bit her bottom lip in frustration, feeling her own face flush redder when eye contact was made, and Moira _noticed_.

Moira tilted her head back, and gave her lips a deliberate lick as she quirked her head quizzically at a very flushed Angela. Reluctant to speak because of the open door, Angela tried to tug Moira's head closer to where she wanted her tongue the most. Moira resisted against the silent begging with a chuckle, her laugh dripping with defiance.

“You're going to have to _tell_ me what the matter is, angel. Just what is it that do you want me to do?”

The tell tale signs of lust overtaking Angela were one of Moira's favourite parts of getting to be with her like this. She revelled in the way the woman needily squirmed beneath her teasing touch, and the way that she was trying her best to not let her undoubtedly desperate voice be heard.

To know that the highly accomplished, holier than thou Angela Ziegler was melting with want beneath her touch, was a power trip she enjoyed beyond description.

With a throaty chuckle, Moira dipped her head back downward, and continued her onslaught of infuriatingly gentle kisses across the faint flush of Angela's skin.

Feeling her patience wearing thin, Angela tightened her grip on the unruly handful of red hair she held, and jerked Moira's head forward with a strength she didn't exude often.

The way Moira had suddenly groaned against her clit at the unexpected show of force caused Angela's hips to jolt forward of their own accord, the sensitive flesh finally brushing against her lips with some semblance of force. Angela hissed at the contact, the feeling ending far too quickly for her liking.

After a rough three days of working around the clock, Angela Ziegler was in no mood to be teased, and she wanted Moira to know it. In a cold, authoritative tone, the doctor muttered;

“Lick.”

Moira had always believed that it was all but impossible to make her mind a muddled mess, to make her completely relinquish control; but all it took was one word. Her nostrils flared, and she brought her hands up to Angela's outer thighs, giving them a firm, wanting squeeze.

Angela held her heated breath in anticipation, and Moira's tongue finally began to draw slow, purposeful circles around the tight area of Angela's clit. Her abdomen tensed, and her hips were already eagerly rising off of the flimsy office chair, desperate for more. Moira swept her tongue against it with just enough pressure to make Angela shake, and she could practically feel her clit throbbing with desperation. Angela didn't just want her; she needed her.

Angela was making the most satisfying sounds Moira had ever heard; her futile attempts to restrain her moans translated to needy grunts and quiet groans. Just as the doctor had actually started to feel in control over the woman on her knees for her for _once_ , the ever unpredictable Moira parted Angela's folds open with her tongue without a warning beyond a demanding grunt, and plunged it into her slit.

A breathy, helpless moan escaped Angela's lips at the sudden sensation, surprising even her, and Moira was wearing that wicked smile of hers all over again.

With a a re-inflated ego spurring her on, Moira slid her hands up to Angela's hips and gripped at them hard, steering Angela at a pace she was determined to set herself, no matter how erratic it may have seemed. Moira's licked at every last bit of wetness she could reach with it; she buried her nose against the soft patch of Angela's pubic hair as she thrust her tongue in as far as she could manage.

Finally, _finally_ getting to experience the satisfying taste of Angela's arousal like this, after days of not being able to, caused Moira to flush hot with a lustful heat that washed over her from head to toe. She hadn't been able to keep how it made her chin wet and her lips sticky off of her mind, and it made her feel deliriously greedy for more.

The blonde woman's fingers were trembling in Moira's hair now, her hips jolting in time to the pace Moira had wordlessly commanded that she follow.

Angela's heated, shallow breath was all the noise she made. Concentrating on keeping her voice down helped in her efforts to keep herself from coming so soon; there was no way she wanted this to be over just yet.

When she felt Moira wrap her lips around her clitoris, though, she knew in that moment that all of her efforts to remain composed were in vain.

She began to suck at the sensitive flesh without shame, her head slightly bobbing in time with the noise of her eager lips, culminating in a perfect storm of wanting to coax Angela's building orgasm out of her.

What finally did it was the way Moira turned her eyes upward to meet Angela's once more; the glimmer of devilry behind them, goading Angela to _hurry up and come already_.

There was one last juddering, desperate roll of Angela's wide hips before she let out a loud, drawling moan that had been building in her throat for ages. Angela fiercely dug her short nails into the back of Moira's scalp and pressed her face as close as she could, partially to steady her trembling frame, and partially to keep herself against her hot lips as she rode out the mind blowingly intense wave of her orgasm.

Finally, Angela went slack and collapsed back against her chair, desperately trying to catch her breath. The relaxation that had washed over her from her intense release had her feeling pleasantly lax, thoroughly spent, and overwhelmingly satisfied.

Moira rose to her feet, looking like the cat that ate the canary. She took Angela's limp hand into her own, and brought the woman's fingers up to her thoroughly wet chin, making her feel her own arousal on Moira's face.

The good doctor didn't think her face could get any redder than she already was, but Moira debunked that theory.

“You couldn't keep quiet in the end, hm? I certainly hope nobody wandered by your door while you were having the time of your life.”

Angela could only grunt in response.

“You needed that.”

“I _needed_ that,” Angela agreed. Despite her sudden consuming drowsiness, she didn't want to leave Moira hanging, especially not after such a bang-up job. She gripped to the armrests of her chair, and struggled to prop herself up in her seat.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Moira?”

Moira chuckled in response, licking her still wet lips.

“Some other time. You don't look like you've got the energy to shuffle into bed, _angel._ ”

“...Don't call me that.”

“You're welcome.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Moira being too turned on to think straight is a good concept so I ran with it. Also if you were curious the working title for this story was "Angela's Thighs Am I Right Like Oh My God." thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it!!


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